


FEEL THE FURY CLOSING IN

by angelwriter



Series: BLOOD DOCTORS : Martin x Ronald [1]
Category: Mad to Be Normal (2017), Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM Scene, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Choking, Doctor/Patient, Doctors & Physicians, Dom/sub, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Murder Husbands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prison, Prison Sex, Psychological Torture, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Psychopaths In Love, Rope Bondage, Smut, Surgeons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2020-10-27 15:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20762276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelwriter/pseuds/angelwriter
Summary: Dr R. D Laing clicked his tongue in disapproval and eyed the man sitting opposite him. None other than Martin Whitley, known as The Surgeon was seated opposite him. Dr Laing insisted that Martin had lunch with him so that they could be properly acquainted."Well he's not going to grab one of the butter knives and stab me now is he? Are you..?"The psychotherapist questioned the maniac. He leaned on his elbows on the table as his left eyebrow raised. Martin smiled and his body gave an involuntary wiggle."I would never do that."





	1. Meeting The Killer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hurtslikeyourmouth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hurtslikeyourmouth/gifts), [Chaoticsoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaoticsoul/gifts).

> This is a tester AU pairing. 
> 
> I did watch Prodigal Son episode 1 and it was literally the most amazing psychological thriller I ever watched!!! 
> 
> I paired Dr. R.D. Laing with Martin Whitley before I watched Prodigal Son and now I finished the last bit of the piece. So the last paragraph in fact was new but not much has changed from when I first wrote it out. I understand Martin a little bit more now after beginning the series and I will continue to watch and learn and observe to create and form this character in my own fic properly. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this. 
> 
> (I must just add that I had absolutely NO IDEA that Ronald was going to say that last line...but I am extremely curious and exhilarated to see where this pairing goes!)

Crossover pairing: 

Dr. R.D. Laing from Mad To Be Normal played by David Tennant 

The Surgeon/Martin Whitley from the new 2019 series Prodigal Son played by Michael Sheen 

I hope you enjoy this cross over pairing as much as we did! 

Title from this song : Ruelle - Madness 

***

The gate buzzed open and Dr. R.D. Laing stepped into the room where there was a cell directly in front of him containing the most dangerous man known to the city. He was a serial killer by the alias The Surgeon. He had read his complete file from the police. He had numerous offenses and he had killed 24 women before he finally got caught. The doctor found it strange that he got caught in the first place. He seemed such a clever, clean killer. Dr. Laing intended to understand him better. He was here on business. They needed his knowledge of psychosis to evaluate what they deemed as a monster. 

Dr Laing was known for his ulterior motives in that he never saw the patient as anything other a human being. People who go through extensive periods of trauma normally develop some kind of copying mechanism. That was all it was. The subject's brain cannot cope with situations so their brains acted out and sometimes the person did things they wouldn't normally do. The Surgeon was a renowned and a well sought out sociopath. He was a demerites cardinac surgeon. His case interested him in the very least. This would be an extremely in depth study he wanted to perform. He wanted to delve deep into this man's mind and the only way to do that was to get up close and personal. 

The Surgeon, also known as Martin Whitley, got up from his bench in his cell and stalked over to the end of his cell, a bemused smile on his lips. 

"And who might you be?" The tone was playful, taunting almost. 

Dr Laing kept his expression calm and professional. "My name is Dr. R.D. Laing, I am a psychotherapist." His Scottish accent was thick and rich. 

"Ah, so you're the man that gets to determine if I am really insane?" 

"On the contrary, just between you and me, I don't think you're insane." 

This confused Martin and the doctor smiled. "Let me buy you lunch so we can discuss the procedure." 

"I can't leave. Surely you know that."

"Who says? You really shouldn't be locked up like an animal. As if that will help you. I see people who are like you as merely humans who have tipped over the edge because of some tragic event. I intend to conduct research on this. For that I need your cooperation and I really don't want to sit here with you in a cell. I don't think it's comfortable for you. Let's go to some restaurant nearby. Is that okay with you?" 

The Surgeon just looked at him intriguingly and smiled. 

"Must he still be handcuffed?" Dr R. D Lang questioned. 

"It's protocol. We can't take the risk." A guard answered instinctively. 

Dr R. D Laing clicked his tongue in disapproval and eyed the man sitting opposite him. None other than Martin Whitley, known as The Surgeon was seated opposite him. Dr Laing insisted that Martin had lunch with him so that they could be properly acquainted. 

"Well he's not going to grab one of the butter knives and stab me now is he? Are you..?"

The psychotherapist questioned the maniac. He leaned on his elbows on the table as his left eyebrow raised. Martin smiled and his body gave an involuntary wiggle.

"I would never do that."

R.D Laing returned the smile and looked over to the guard who was eyeing Martin suspiciously.

"See, he's fine. Got nothin' to worry about."

"We are keeping him restrained. That was the order and it will be followed through."

The guard was stern and straightended his back. His feet were slightly apart and his head was held high. It was obvious that there would be no negotiations. The psychotherapist understood that and instead focused his attention on Martin who was already staring back at him.

"Now then, let's have something to eat. How bout some grapes ey?"

"Would be quite hard to have them myself. You're going to have to help me."

Martin teased and yet his face was unreadable. Dr. Laing's lips however curved up into a smile, dimples forming. He ordered the grapes and once they arrived he didn't hesitate to pluck one from off its stalk. He kept the grape between his forefinger and his thumb for sometime, just staring at it. Martin leaned forward with undeniable grace, parted his lips and waited. His azure eyes held mischief within them. 

"I can't do it without you."

The psychotherapist chuckled and placed the grape in Martin's mouth. He felt the wetness of Martin's tongue as it licked a sliver of his finger whilst claiming the grape. They locked eyes at that moment. Without breaking eye contact, R. D Laing plucked another grape from its stalk and positioned it between Martin's lips. There was a pop as Martin pursed his lips around the grape and sucked it in.

R.D was the first to speak after the tension filled silence, "Do you want to continue this lunch at my place? The food here is a bit underwhelming."

Martin gave a warm knowing smile, "That I won't mind. It's better than going back to an empty cell." 

With some reluctance from the security and a criminal offense bribe, R.D Laing guided Martin back to his home that was at the Asylum. It was probably assumed that the doctor was going to run some tests on the killer. The Asylum was open however and more like a home where people with diagnoses can be free and safe. Dr. Laing never prescribed medicine or used tranquilizers. He certainly did not like imprisonment against ones will. 

"Whiskey?" He suggested as Martin took a seat on the couch in his one bedroom room that he stayed in at his workplace. 

Martin stared curiously about the messy room. Clothes were thrown everywhere, a desk piled with a number of books and papers strewn on the floor. An unlit cigarette hung from R.D's lips. He poured them glasses of half filled brown liquid and they clinked glasses. Martin swirled the liquor around with a twist of a wrist before taking a sip. He gulped down the burn of the alcohol, his tongue tingling and sizzling with pleasant heat. He had not had a drink in five years. He took another taste, savouring it. 

"You glad you got your hands back? 

Martin sighed contentedly, eyes closing briefly. He flexed his fingers and swivelled his wrists in a circle. He smiled as they relaxed. 

"Oh you have no idea. Thank you."

"Call me Ronald. Or Ronnie. I like to keep an informal nature with my...clients." 

Martin smirked and leaned back into the chair. "I am not just a client am I, Dr Ronald Laing..." He extended the 'g' sound and licked his lips. 

Ronald set the glass down onto the table. "No. You're not. This is a different case." 

"You want to help me?" He swirled the drink again and his shoulders slumped in assumption of yet undergoing another psyche assessment for what purpose. Martin wished they would leave him alone. 

"No." Ronald took the glass of his hand and put it next to his own. "I want you to help me. Teach me." 

"Teach you what? What I know? About being a physician that knows all the muscles and nervous systems to press and inject where I can inflict the most pain? Is that what you want to know?" His words were harsh and sarcastic. 

Ronald blinked lazily at him. "Yes." His tone was serious and Martin raised his brows in surprise, sensing something else brewing. "But I don't just want you to teach me. I want you to show me. I want to see how it is done. How far you can take someone. How much pain you can make them feel." 

"What are you asking of me?" He laughed despite his curiosity and deep interest. 

His dark eyes narrowed meeting Martin's glistening blue ones. "I want you to do it on me."


	2. Seeking Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!!! 
> 
> there are mature themes in this chapter (bondage, flogging, murder/violence, conversation about rape) 
> 
> Please read at your own risk.

Martin stared dumbfounded at the man in front of him. No one - not in all his 50 odd years - had asked him to show them pain. Willingly. He was willingly asking him to instil pain in him. Not just for scientific purposes (because if Martin had a choice he would pick a victim right now on the street and show Ronald exactly how he killed his victims. He would show how he could shut down each bodily function one by one until their heart stopped) but he was asked to show in him by doing it to him. 

Martin was sure that was not meant as assisted suicide or a death wish. No. This man was interested on the art. He did not want to be poisoned like his victims. He wanted to be taught about anatomy and the pain centre and the endurance of his mind. This psychologist and scientist wanted to see how far he could handle it. The notion and offer elicited a sense of excitement through him. Martin smiled devilishly. Perhaps Ronald was not what he expected after all. 

"What would you like to do first?" Martin began, his mind racing with all the things he could do to Ronald. 

"Anything. You're in charge." 

Martin gleamed at that. "Oh. I don't think you should give me all the control. Might regret it later." 

"On the contrary, Mr Whitley. I think I won't. You have complete control over me." 

Their eyes met and there was no cowardice or resistance from either of them. No doubts. It was a rare moment. They shared something that could not be named. Two scientists/doctors who found each other and were both interested in the art of murder and pain. Ronald was interested in the psyche part of it and Martin murdered respectively. They made a surprisingly equal partnership. This being said, what Ronald was suggesting was something else entirely. 

"Is this some sort of kink you have?" 

Ronald blinked lazily at him with a strange smile on his lips. "Maybe." 

"You are full of surprises, aren't you?"

"You have no idea. Come on. Tell what you would do to me first. I am curious." 

"First I would lock you up with manacles, make sure you do not run, or jump away, or spasm. I would inject you with a mild toxin. Mild because it does it not have full harmful effects of...well death, but it does pack quite a punch. You will first go into hyperallegeric shock. You will hallucinate for a bit and when you come to your body will absorb the most spectacular feeling. Your muscles would have secreted a large amount of cortisol and from that you will have hypertension literally everywhere. You will feel like your body is made of bricks and you cannot move. You will basically be paralysed. But then....then I can start. I will use your preferred beating instrument of choice. Trust me, you will feel everything. And only I have the antidote. How's that for control?" 

Ronald sucked in a breath. It was soft, but Martin never missed it. He always acutely aware of human behaviourism and Ronald had studied it. They knew exactly what the other wanted and needed from just their body language. Ronald began unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time. Martin's head turned up and he twisted in his seat to get into a more comfortable position. A mess of curly hair was displayed on Ronald's chest. His lean body fit and his arms just as hairy as the rest of him, the thick line leading into his underwear was most appealing. Martin had already spotted Ronald's interest poking out of his black jeans. 

"Well I certainly cannot do it now." Martin told him, his throat thick and tight. "I do not have my equipment and all that." 

Ronald just hummed in reply as he undid his pants and slid it down his legs. Martin stared at those long slender legs and raised his brow at him. His black underwear was tight and clearly tented, exposing all his curves and angles. Martin was tempted to ask him to turn around. Ronald walked towards him and eyeballed his lap to ask permission. He obliged and moved his hands away so Ronald could straddle him. It had been a long time since Martin had anyone on his lap, let alone a naked grown man. His sexuality was never kept secret, but he did not flaunt his bisexuality since he got married. 

Ronald nuzzled his beard into his neck, their scruff rubbing against each other. Martin could feel every sensation as if it was the very first time he had been touched. The soft material of the only clothing he wore pressing into the thin linin white pants he wore, the heavy weight on his thighs secure and steady, the brush of his ankle knocking against his skin, the deep breaths that fanned on the shell of his ear, the scent of smoke and rich cologne, the tickle of hair on his face. It sent pleasant shivers down his spine.

Martin had had his fair share of experimenting in college when he was studying his medical degree. He had been to a few parties in his freshmen year and he had gotten drunk and kissed guys. It was only when he was in his late twenties, just two years before he met his wife, that he discovered his experimenting was a notion towards his solid attraction to men. He had a friend who he had known in high school that came to New York to visit. They had met up and had coffee. It began innocently at first (it always does, much like this encounter with Ronald) and then he was invited to the hotel his friend was staying at. He had slept with him that night. None of these facts were important and did not need to be remembered, but Martin did only because he realised how much he missed a throbbing cock teasing itself on his thigh. 

"We can do other things..." Ronald whispered in a low voice. "You are a bit of a control freak, aren't you, Martin? You have the need to assert dominance and you have structure. That is why you have such a neat work space. Why all your shelves are categorised and labelled. Even your cell uniform is kept neat and glistening white. The cardigan you wear, the grey one with the pockets, tells me you love comfort and stability. You want to feel at home even though you are not allowed to go outside. I know you, Martin. I can read you. I do not know why you murder. We can figure that out together later. But what I want from you for now is for you use all that strength, that aggression, that power....on me." 

His breathing escalated at Ronald's words. Oh, that strung a cord in him, almost like a whip lash, like a lightning bolt, like a strike of an sword or the sharp snap of a branch. He was growing hard in his own pants, matching the heat and intensity of Ronald who was now rocking ever so slightly into him. He closed his eyes and willed himself to regain the composure to answer him. He could feel the familiar twitch in his hands, the electric current that arose when he wanted to do something that he knew would elicit pleasure to himself. It usually consisted of pain to others though and what made this all the more enticing was that Ronald wanted it. 

His fingers wriggled in anticipation as his hands came towards Ronald bare back. He used a single index finger and ran it down from the base his spine all the way to the top and back again. He touched him no where else and Martin could hear the increase in his breaths and feel the reactions from the quiver in his shoulders. Ronald held his forearms for grip as he began moving with a quicker pace. Martin met with his thrusts and still teased a finger up and down his spine. He wanted this. He really did and Martin was extremely happy at that, a smirk played on his lips as he began planning his assault. 

Ronald was unbelievably horny. He had not even registered how much he needed to be taken and controlled and used until he mounted the thick man with the soft curls and sweet smile. He was a demon under the demeanor of a friendly family man. He was interested in seeing the demon let loose. He rutted against Martin's contained cock, loving the slide of the fabric and the tantalising friction. The thing he was doing with just his finger awoke something in him. He was heated and already sweaty. 

"Do you want me to beat you, Ronnie?"

The lewd tone he used as he said his name made his head spin. The nickname he used. He liked how it sounded on the American's tongue. 

"Yes, Dr. Whitley." 

The first touch was precious. The first coil snap sound in his ears was like musical notes and the burn as it hit his skin was like searing white hot flames into his limbs, filling every cell of his body with liquid pleasure. He gasped into the sheets, his mouth open and muffled into the pillow. His hands were securely tied to his back and he was bent up on his knees, his ass displayed in the air, bare and naked, perfect for the taking. The predator was getting off from the sight of someone actually enjoying his assault. When he did this to his victims they screamed in agony, the look of fear in their eyes, their bodies sweaty and motor senses heightened from adrenaline. 

He loved seeing them cower and cry and beg for mercy (when he allowed them to speak) and he enjoyed the tortured look on their twisted faces. The way Ronald invited it was a new pleasantry that had not yet had the opportunity to explore. This was transcendent in it's own way. Martin was shaking with it, the power, the control, the way he held Ronald in the palm of his hand, the subtle little twitches in his body language that told Martin he was waiting for it, waiting for him to hit him again. Martin swallowed hard and forced his rising orgasm down and focus on the task. He lifted the cord again and struck Ronald on his leg. He yelped, his teeth tearing into the pillow case, tears steaming down his face, his chest rising and falling rapidly. 

"Do you want more?" Martin asked after about the twentieth hit. 

Ronald was soaked in his sweat, limbs like floppy noodles after steamed in a boiling pot, voice rough and hoarse as he replied. 

"Please," he yet again begged. 

Martin dropped the cord. Ronald looked up at him in confusion. His eyes bloodshot and saliva dripped down his chin. What a sight, Martin thought, as his gazed over the red marks and bruises he had made of his skin. Ronald's dick was purple with blood and he could see how close he was that if Martin touched it once with his pinky he would explode hot steams everywhere. Martin had commanded him not to touch or move against the bed. He was not allowed to come. 

Martin walked over to the bed and knelt down behind Ronald. He had already pulled his underwear down his legs and was preparing to slip into Ronald. The one thing that stopped him was consent. Martin never asked consent before. Murderers did not go around looking for volunteers of people who wanted to be murdered, the point was to do the act against someone's will. And even when his wife and him were intimate, he took her when he took her. Martin froze at Ronald's entrance, his hard dick in his hand, his eyes fixed on the man who could not see other than in front him. If he took him now it was rape. Ronald had agreed to beatings, but not this. This was off the table.

He respected Ronald and although he had told him he could do what he liked and that he was allowed to take control, the main reason why people entered into these types of relationships (granted they had no such label but it worked the same) the Dom had to make sure that it was always Safe, Sane, and Consensual. If Martin was going to do these things to Ronald, he had to be consulted. There had to be rules. It had to be done right. So Martin tucked himself away again and untied Ronald. He could easily have asked permission and Ronald would have easily have said yes. Maybe that was the problem. Ronald was so lost in pleasure and pain, the fine line that blurred your sense and dulled down your concept of reasoning. No. Not yet. He could not do that to him. If Ronald wanted to bed Martin he would have to ask, properly, in a different setting. 

Sex was something else to him. When he had sex it was always only for love. Despite how Martin chose to live his life and what acts he did, sex was sacred. He never raped. That was his one rule if he had any. His only rules were this. Never hurt kids. And never use sex as an act of violence. Even Martin as a psychopath understood that. He gently pulled Ronald up and held him steady. He put his head on his chest and then with his other hand began to stroke him off. It took three slow strokes before Ronald released. He thanked him and by that time the guards from the Asylum where Martin was kept came to collect him.


	3. A Visit of Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had nothing to do with this chapter's creation. I was inspired by Michael Sheen's tweet in response to what he liked most about being Dr. Whitly and in his own words he tweeted: "Being chained up" 
> 
> So if you are reading this, Mr Sheen, I owe all the credit to you.

"Back so soon?" Martin grinned with delight at the sight of Ronald Laing standing before him again. 

His shirt was bright and colourful with an almost psychedelic style print. His hair was gelled back and the ends stood out in spikes. His eyes were unreadable at least for the moment. Martin leaned back in his chair and crossed his thighs over his lap. Ronald stared at Martin. His white uniform did nothing to conceal his thick body, his thighs were plump, juicy almost. His belly stuck out and looked so incredibly soft. Martin's curls in their grey and white spectrum glistened in the morning sunlight from the one window that was at the very top of the ceiling. He was on a leash chained to the wall with a belt buckle around his waist. Ronald smirked at that. 

"Look who is the one that is chained up now." 

Martin's eyes crinkled at his teasing. "I enjoy being chained up." 

"Is that so?" He stepped closer to the man in the chair. He kept his tone low and just on the edge of seduction. 

"I like it just as much as chaining people up. A bit of a sadist and a masochistic." 

Ronald hummed and looked towards the guard at the gate. He sauntered over to him, his narrow hips swaying either from habit or on purpose for Martin to see him showing off. He slipped a hand into his tight jeans pocket and pulled out a $100 bill. He gave it to the guard with his two fingers in a causal manner that had Martin wriggling with excitement. The guard looked around and took the money, disappearing down the hall. 

"The corruption. My, my, Ronald. You continue to impress me." Martin licked his lips. "What do you have planned for us today?" 

"Since you like being chained up so much I think we should stick with that." Ronald undid his belt and pulled it off his pants. He walked behind Martin's chair. "Give me your hands." 

Martin eagerly obliged. He pulled his hands back and Ronald tied his hands together securely with his belt. Once he was done he began undressing himself painfully slow while staring into Martin's eyes that was penetrating him with untamed lust. He peeled off his pants and then threw his shirt on the floor. He bent down onto his knees in front of Martin and found the zip to his pants. Martin was already half hard when he pulled him out and Ronald took most of his pants off, revealing those tasty thighs. He nipped at his inner thighs, loving the little soft sighs Martin made above him. He sucked tiny bruises into his flesh all the way up to his groin. 

By then he was fully hard and Ronald wasted no time putting his mouth on Martin and swallowing him down. He expertly sucked and licked, driving Martin insane. His legs were shaky as well as his breaths and the frustration from not being able to pull at his hair and make him take Martin the way he wanted was equally pleasing and making him aggressive with need. Ronald was slow in his assault. Lapping up the pre-liquid that spilled from his head, kissing tenderly, licking long stripes on the underside of his member. Taking all of him in and then sucking hard before pulling all the way out again. 

"Ronald!" He gasped. "Don't..." 

"Don't what?"

Martin looked down at the man with mischief in his eyes, his mouth red and dripping with his saliva, and mixing with some of his spend. Oh God, this image alone was going to end him. He whined and shook his legs in irritation. Ronald tutted and held his legs steady with the strong hold of his hands. 

"Ah, no moving. What is it Dr. Whitly? What mustn't I do?" He nipped at his thigh again. "This?" He sucked a harsh purple mark. "Or this?" He looked straight into his eyes as he claimed Martin into his mouth again and began deep throating at an unnaturally fast pace. 

Martin wailed and his hips worked in time with Ronald's mouth. His lips were already bitten into enough to draw blood and the bondage on his hands were cutting into his flesh and...and it was glorious. Heat flushed into his veins and he felt his whole body surge with the satisfied pleasure of an orgasm as Ronald swallowed him down. He breathed heavily, floating and still dazed from his high as Ronald now began to mount him. 

"What are you doing?" Martin asked, a quick flash of anxiety flooding his system after the shocks of pleasure. 

"I am going to dry hump you until you are hard again and then you are going to insert yourself inside of me and I am going to ride you until I come." 

Martin's eyes darted around the room. He both hoped the guard would stay away long enough and come back so he could be spared of this. 

"Are you sure?" He asked. 

Ronald began thrusting himself slowly onto his thigh and nuzzled into his neck, his breath ghosting across his ear, "I wouldn't do this if I wasn't sure." 

He moaned as Ronald gave him a sort of lap dance with those sinful hips of his. He was already hard again and Ronald took Martin into his hands giving a few pumps, smearing more of his juices with his thumb before positioning it at his entrance. 

"What about...you're ... um lube? Don't you have lube?" Martin blurted. 

"So concerned about me? I am flattered. Don't worry I already slicked and opened myself up before I came here...I am ready for you." 

And with that he slowly lowered himself down on Martin, feeling himself being filled up. They both groaned together. Ronald was wet and tight and oh so warm. Martin closed his eyes to the delicious sensation. Once he was fully seated on Martin he circled his hips in a motion that left them breathless. He worked fast, knowing time was short. He would find his release easy after getting turned on by sucking Martin off. His pants hit Martin's ears and he moaned at the effect he had on him. He could sense Ronald was close now. 

"Please? Let me touch you." 

Ronald pulled his head away from his neck and looked at him, not slowing down his pace. "You want to touch me?" Ronald was aching and his cock was thick and ready to burst. Martin nodded aggressively and licked his lips.

Ronald abruptly pulled at Martin's hair earning a surprised gasp from him. Ronald growled into his ear again, "No. You cannot touch me. You are chained up. You cannot grab my ass as you fuck into me. You cannot grip my hair and watch my mouth open with my cries. You cannot tear into my back with your nails nor can you slap my thighs. All you can do is sit there and take what I give you. Understand?"

Martin could not help himself when his body reacted to those lewd words on Ronald's tongue. He howled as his orgasm ripped through him, spilling violently into Ronald. Ronald smirked and then rode out his own orgasm, collapsing his head onto Martin's chest. Their bodies still clung with sweat and Martin's entire attire was stained with Ronald's seed. Ronald climbed off of him and got dressed again. He undid Martin's hands and put his belt back on. He headed towards the door. Martin looked scandalized and motioned towards the mess on his shirt. 

Ronald winked at him. "Something to remember me by."


	4. Unlock Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a new chapter. Haven't written in a while but hope you enjoy :)

"Persuaded Mr. David to unlock my chains? What did you give him this time?" Martin asked Ronald who walked in with his hands behind his back. 

"I helped with another patient. I'm starting to think the Guard is quite fond of you. Not giving him free blowies, right?" 

"No," he laughed. "I'm saving them for you." 

"Speaking of which, I would like one in fact and while we're on the subject of chains there is a reason why I wanted you free. You have a bed, don't you?"

"Of course. What do you have planned?" He wiggled in delight. 

His belly was fuller, his thighs thicker. His white uniform was pulled even tighter over his chest. His hair had grown out and it stood out like cork screws all around his head. His beard was scruffier. 

"Were in solitary confinement?" 

"Afraid so." 

"What did you do?" 

Martin led Ronald to his little single bed. They sat down together and up close Ronald could see the swirling gold flecks in Ronald's eyes. His hair was slicked back as per usual and this time he wore a blue print top with brown slacks. He blinked slowly at Martin, interested in his answer. 

"I attacked another patient during our weekly group sessions." 

"And why is that?" 

"He wouldn't say he loved me." 

"What?" Ronald was clearly confused.

"We were role playing my conversation with my son. I wanted Hector to play Malcolm and to have him say he loved me back." 

"Oh I see. The relationship with your son is strained? You want to tell me what happened?"

"I may have murdered people secretly in my family home and he caught on to me and now he has life long trauma." 

"Kids are so fragile to that sort of thing."

"Malcolm isn't innocent. He nearly killed my colleague, John. He's like me, I know he is." 

"Sounds like Malcolm needs a psychiatrist instead of you." 

"But I need you, Ronnie." His voice went low and lewd. "You have so much to teach me still. How's about that present I'm going to give you?"

Martin dropped to his knees. He unbuckled Ronald's belt and slid his pants and underwear down to his ankles. He ran his large, calloused hands from Ronald's ankles to his knees, rubbing his thumb in circles absently as he adored the flesh on his inner thighs. He kissed and nibbled, made bruises onto the skin. It thrilled Martin to know that no one was going to see this but him. He was particularly pleased that he marked him this way. Ronald was his. Like this, Ronald belonged to him. 

Ronald drew in a shaky breath as Martin bit harsh cresents with his nails into his thighs as he painted a stripe of saliva down Ronald's hard length. His legs shook slightly as he teased the base of his cock with his fingers, playing with the hairs there. He mouthed Ronald's head and sucked it softly. The little supple sounds of wetness drew him closer to Martin's mouth, eager for more. He threaded his hands through Martin's unruly curls and tugged him roughly to take his entire length into his mouth. Martin didn't protest, but moaned as he took his down. 

The stretch warmed Martin's body and his throat constricted around him. He loved the heady breaths that Ronald made as he bobbed his head back and forth in a lazy motion. He hummed happily when Ronald became impatient. He grunted as Martin pulled back and used his one hands to stroke him leisurely. 

"Stop teasing, you fucker." 

Martin's eyes gleamed with mischief. "All in good time, my boy." 

Martin licked down the length again and Ronald pulled him so hard it hurt. He gripped Martin's jaw and opened it up, holding his chin as he thrust into his warm mouth. Martin's eyes rolled back into his head and he gagged, saliva dribbling down his chin. Ronald looked into Martin's eyes to make sure he was okay. Martin shut his eyes and relaxed his mouth. He allowed Ronald to use him as he pleased. Ronald jerked his hips at a fast pace and soon his body convulsed with his climax. His hair was sweaty and he tried to calm his breathing. Martin wiped his mouth, loving that salty taste of Ronald on his lips. 

He blinked lazily down at Martin. "Now...undress." 

Martin hastily did just that while trying to not get tangled in his jumper. He kicked it to the side and was left only in his underwear. His cock was hard in his pants and you could see the outline in his white standard prison underwear. Ronald didn't seem to care about this "tightie whities" and he peeled it off as well with a nod from the psychotherapist. He made Martin climb on top of him as Ronald laid down on the bed. 

Ronald spoke thickly, his voice hoarse. "I want you to come all over my body." 

This was a different form of self-affirmation with a patient. Martin had narcissistic behaviour disorder and this was beyond any of his wildest dreams. He had been locked up for twenty odd years and he needed this. God, he needed this. Ronald knew his psyche better than anyone and this was truly a gift. Literally marking Ronald with his spend...the thought alone had his balls tightening. He tightened his hand around around his cock, giving it few quick strokes. He wanted to lengthen it out, tease himself, but he was too far gone. 

He was aching and dripping already. His thumb caught the liquid and he spread it around (added lubricant perhaps? He wanted to smear the entire of Ronald's body with it. Make him dirty). Martin then jerked himself off as fast as he could, his head thrown back and mouth open. Soft pants and the slick on his hand working himself were the only sounds he heard. His back arched and he aimed himself at Ronald's chest. He opened his eyes to see that Ronald had unbuttoned his shirt and his chest was displayed like a canvas for him to mess on. Oh, how he loved his art! 

He squirted on the man's chest hair, making it sticky and it dripped down his abdomen. Ronald groaned happily which added to the heat running up and down Martin's shaky thighs. It slicked all over him; Martin was pleased.


	5. Liquid Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Everytime you try to move your hands at all, you'll choke yourself." 
> 
> Ronald tested it out and sure enough he garbled. "This really works. You know your stuff," he spluttered with a dry cough. 
> 
> "Of course. I'm not an amateur."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks RedShirtWriter34567 for the dedication on their Ronald/Martin fic. This made me realise I've had a new chapter to post which was supposed to be posted MONTHS ago but I literally forget all about it. Much hugs to you for bringing me back on track. :) 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy !

"Bend over the desk" 

Ronald clicked his tongue, his eyes dilating with lust. He nodded his head and leaned over the desk. He placed his hands on the table. Martin quickly removed all the papers and folders away. Ronald put his hands back on the table and then wriggled his bum teasingly. Martin chuckled. 

"Now I want you to stay still," Martin ordered as he hands came round to palm Ronald's ass. He squeezed and he could sense the man smiling him front of him. His hands came to his waist and then to his belt which his unbuckled. He slipped the jeans down until it landed around his ankles. The keys in his pocket hit with a thud to the ground. Martin bent down and looped the belt out of the jeans. 

"Give me your hands. Behind your back please." 

He did as he was told. Martin first looped the belt around his neck and then tied the ends of it through his hands that was behind his back and he threaded it through the buckle, tightening it and securing it so he couldn't move. 

"Everytime you try to move your hands at all, you'll choke yourself." 

Ronald tested it out and sure enough he garbled. "This really works. You know your stuff," he spluttered with a dry cough. 

"Of course. I'm not an amateur." 

Ronald grinned. "Getting on with it then?" 

"Don't rush me. I like to take my time in prepping my patient." 

"Ohh I'm your patient now?" 

"That you are. I'm going to pull your underwear off as well. Don't move, okay? Unless you want to choke." 

He yanked his underwear down, bending to his knees to spread his ass cheeks apart. He pressed his tongue flat over his hole and licked a stripe down and back again. Ronald shivered and moved. He choked himself and swore, making saliva dribble down his chin. Martin ignored his insistent grumbles about the choking, but Ronald seemed to enjoy dispite his inability to control his movements. Martin set to work on opening him up. He licked into him, taking his time in pressing in and thrusting inside. Ronald moaned loudly. He didn't know if it was from the choking or the rimming, but either way he wasn't going to stop. He ate him out for what felt like hours. Finally when Ronald was hard and leaking onto his desk -- practically begging for it -- he took out his cock from his pants. He picked up lube that he got from Ronald when he came in. He wetted his two fingers and slid it inside harshly until the hole reddened and was loose under his ministrations. 

"Fuck, Martin! Please!" Ronald groaned, irritated and frustrated. 

"Patience. I'm getting there," he chided. 

He slicked himself up and held his waist tightly. He pushed his shirt up so he could feel the expanse of Ronald's stomach. He guided himself inside and roughly fucked him without a warning. He let out a strangled moan at the warmth and tightness. Martin twisted his fingers into Ronald's hair and pressed him down onto the desk, choking him a bit in the process. He fucked him with hard, viscous thrusts and made Ronald's whole body shake. 

"Martin, fuck, let me come!" 

"You're gonna come for me already, princess? Quite early, isn't it? You will come when I say. Okay? You're so good, Ronald. Good boy. You're so well for me. Love this. Wanted this from the moment I met you." His thrusts became sloppy. 

He hadn't done this in a while and Ronald was so good, so very good to him, he simply couldn't hold on anymore. He kept nailing him in that spot. Years of anatomy seeking and studying aided him well. He hit that spot and each time Ronald cried out. He forgot he couldn't move and he kept choking himself which only added to the pleasure. 

"I'm gonna come inside of you then I'm going to lick you clean. That taste will be in my mouth the whole day. You'd come on my desk wouldn't you? Got you at a nice height for you to spill all over it. And I'm going to make you clean it. And I'm going to enjoy kissing it into my mouth." 

"Please, Martin," he whined. 

"Yes! Yes! Come for me, my pet." 

Martin spilled hotly into Ronald just as Ronald spurted all over his wooden desk. He panted in his ear and pulled out. He kissed down Ronald's neck, licking and biting down into his shoulder. Ronald ket out one last satisfied moan before asking to be unrestrained. Martim agreed. Once Ronald was free he made good on his word. 

"Lick it," he advised. 

Ronale flushed and did as he was told. After they had fixed themselves and dressed again, Ronald stared at Martin for a long time. He met his gaze and Martin stared at him back. Something surpassed between them and it wasn't a simple thank-you-for-the-shag look. It was almost intimate. An understanding between them. 

"What are you looking for?" Martin asked curiously. He seemed to be searching for something in Martin's eyes. 

"I want to see you."

"What do you mean?" A few moments passed and he understood. "Oh. I see. You're trying to get in my head. Have you found what you are looking for? Are you satisfied with what you have seen?"

"You have a beautiful mind, Doctor Whitley." 

"Thank you. So do you, Doctor Laing."


End file.
